Rocky Waters
by YellowEyedDemon4699
Summary: Crossover of the "Supernatural" Destiel fandom and "Titanic".
1. All Aboard

Dean Winchester ran quickly through the bustling streets of Southampton, England, carrying only the clothes on his back and a somewhat large bag of money he had just won from hustling poker. His garb was simplistic and worn out, but not necessarily rags. A few boys behind with the same type of clothing ran a few yards behind, trying to catch him and yelling, "Get back here you son of a bitch!"

Dean's younger brother Sam, who had been playing the game alongside him, was fighting to keep up with Dean's fast and trained legs. Dean looked back every now and again not to see if the other boys were catching up to him, but to make sure they hadn't gotten to his brother. Sam whooped loudly, filled with an interesting mixture of excitement and fear. Dean looked back and laughed as he stopped and waited for Sam to pass him, before throwing a barrel behind him, scattering the contents of apples and oranges across the street, stopping the people that had been chasing them. "You ok Sammy?!" Dean yelled to his brother, who was now keeping up with Dean's pace and running at his side. "Never been better!" he yelled in reply before whooping loudly again.

They slowed to a walk as they reached the large crowd, all waiting to get on the recently famed ship, the Titanic. They scooted past a large horse and buggy which was brought to a halt. A nicely dressed man was helping a beautiful, auburn haired woman out of the carriage, and for some reason she was staring at the ship with distrust. Dean chuckled, finding it humorous that a first class woman wouldn't have gotten her sea legs by now. It's not like she was forced to be here or anything. You can't force a blue blooded woman to do anything nowadays except telling her to watch her language.

Sam stood on the tips of his toes, struggling to see over the crowds. "Uh Dean, do you think we have enough money to get on?" Dean snorted with amusement. "Have I ever failed us before?" Sam blinked a few times before contorting, "Yes. Several times actually." Dean glared. "Shut up and get on the damn boat."

Sam sighed, still not entirely believing him. Dean smiled. "Actually Sammy I lied to you. We actually have enough money for a second class room." Sam's eyes widened. "You mean, almost first class, but not quite, but pretty much?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Sammy, you might break something."

Dean walked along the wooden bridge from the port up to a small hole in the boat which it took Sam a moment to realize was a built in door. Dean walked in and an older looking man said, "What class?"

Dean put on his best smile and handed him the bag. "Second class room please." The man looked skeptically at the satchel. "We don't appreciate being paid with stolen money sir. Was that obtained legally?" Sam slid his fingers along the side of the massive ship, tearing his hand away as the sun had caused the metal outer lining to burn him. Dean turned on as much charm as he could and replied, "To your knowledge, yes. Completely legal." The man was still reluctant. "Sir, I'm afraid I cannot d-"

Dean interrupted him by opening the bag and showing it to him. "Keep the change." The man merely scrunched his nose slightly and took the bag. "Welcome aboard sir."

Dean looked back at his brother and motioned for him to follow. "And that, if you were paying attention, is how to get on boat full of people who think they're better than everyone else." Sam looked up from his shoes, snapping back into reality. "What?" Dean closed his eyes and sighed, as they received their tickets. Sam read his out loud. "Sam Winchester. Second Class Passenger. April Tenth, 1912. Dean what does all this mean?" dean merely shook his head. "Think hard." Was his only reply.

When the ship left the dock there were cameras taking pictures and what looked like hundreds of men women and children from the second and third class waving their hats and their arms at the cameras. There were even two second class boys hanging from the port bow of the ship, one of which appeared to be Hispanic from a distance.

They walked down the white painted hallway with the hunter green carpeted floor, and Sam grunted from having to carry the heavy bags that held some clothes they had stolen and a little extra money.

When Dean found their room and opened the door, both of them stared in awe at the room, as Sam yelled excitedly, "I call top bunk." For a moment Dean felt like an excited child again as he replied, "Not if I beat you there!" then he quickly stopped Sam "Wait a minute, wait a minute. You realize everything here is brand new. These sheets have never been slept in." Sam looked back at his brother for a moment before slicing himself into the bottom bunk. Dean busted out laughing. "Well look at you, Christopher Columbus." Sam sat there laughing. Dean smiled. "You around the ship for a little while, I'm going to go up on deck and smoke."

He sat up on the upper part of the deck, watching the now much smaller group of people walk around on the lower part that jutted out further. He puffed away at his cigarette as another boy with the same style of clothes as he did the exact same thing. Except this other boy was staring at the same auburn haired woman that they had seen staring at the boat as if she were to be on a prison ship. One of the nicer looking passengers caught the boy staring and smiled. "Don't even try. It's a waste of time." The boy turned and smiled back the way Dean always smiled at people he was about to punch in the face. "Of course not. Wasn't even planning on it."

Dean kept looking over the edge and noticed an odd looing dark haired man, leaning over the railing in a way that seemed to be in an incredibly un-first class manner. Though the man was looking out at the sea, he was drawing a dismembered man that appeared to have tattered angel wings. Dean's brow furrowed in confusion as he watched the man's hand scrape at the paper quickly, yet for some reason occasionally looking up at the scene of the docks which was getting smaller and smaller as the boat drifted away. Dean could see well enough that the man's fingers were clenched tightly around the graphite drawing utensil, for his fingers were red from the pressure, and his knuckles were white from the skin stretching over the bone.

Dean flicked his cigarette before throwing the still burning, orange colored filter over the edge, and walked back to his room. He didn't know that this nameless man would for some reason have a leading role in the young man's dreams that night.


	2. Insomnia

Dean laid in his spot on the top bunk of the bed, concentrating on Sam's quiet snoring to try to calm himself down. He for some reason couldn't find the peace of mind to fall asleep. The only thing that he could think about was the man he had seen on the deck earlier. Why had he been drawing an angel being tortured like that? Was he one of those Satanist freaks who despised everything to do with God and angels? Sam snorted a bit in his sleep and swatted at his face, before being quiet again.

Dean closed his eyes slowly, trying to clear his mind, but it suddenly seemed like there was too much noise. The mixture of Sam's breaths, the water, and the swaying of the ship in general was bothersome to him. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before quickly and quietly sliding off of the bed. He put on a loose white shirt, a tan vest, and slacks to match.

He went out onto the lower deck this time and was headed to the railing when he saw the man from earlier sitting on the top metal bar with his legs dangling over the edge. He had his arms spread out as if he was trying to fly away. Dean raised an eyebrow, but couldn't help but to watch him. The man's hair was short but messy dark brown locks seemed to flow in waves on his head. The man's eyes were closed, and his head fell back as if he were completely relaxed.

Dean cleared his throat nervously, and the man's head shot up and he turned it around. He spun completely and pushed himself slowly off of the railing onto the deck and cleared his throat also. "It's a...fine night isn't it?" Dean chuckled a little. "Apparently." The man's face turned bright pink from embarrassment. There were a few long moments of silence as Dean puffed on his cigarette, before the man spoke again. "I don't usually do that." Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter whether you do it all the time or not. I don't care if you collect eyelids and keep them in a drawer."

The man blinked a few times, utter shock in his eyes before saying, "That's quite disturbing that one would keep eyelids in a drawer. I don't think you have to worry about me doing that." Dean looked down at the water and closed his eyes for a moment. The man stood against the railing and looked at Dean. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm C-"

"Look buddy, I'm sure using all that fancy talk to a lower status is funny to you, but I'm really not in the mood."

The man shook his head. "Do you honestly think I'm a normal blue blood? My name is Castiel Novak, and that name is currently smeared all over Southampton in the worst way possible." Dean looked up at Castiel, and smiled. "You're Novak? The one who suddenly dropped the family fortune to be a religious nut? You must be a fun guy."

Castiel gave out a breathy chuckle. "I have my reasons for that." Dean looked inside his memory, and checked off the memory where he had thought that the man was a Satanist. Dean looked back down at the water, flicking his cigarette into the ocean below. "And what exactly are your reasons, Mr. Novak?" Dean muttered. Castiel looked up towards the moon. "I just sort of...fell down..." Dean sighed and stood up straight. "You fell down? What happened, you hit your head on a giant stone crucifix?" Castiel's face went blank of expression and he stayed completely silent for at least the vast majority of ten minutes before Dean turned to walk back towards the cabin.

Castiel turned around. "Maybe you could me for dinner tomorrow in the evening? I'd love to have you. I don't receive much company." Dean turned back towards Castiel. "Mr. Novak it would be my honor, and maybe tomorrow we could discuss some of your drawings. The dismembered angel came as quite an interest to me." Castiel blushed again, and merely nodded in response, as they both heard a high pitched scream. Dean broke out in a run, Castiel close behind him. When they got to the other side of the ship, the girl with the soft auburn curls was there again. She wore a dark red sequined dress and red high heels. She was lying on the ground, underneath a blonde haired boy that appeared to be pinning her down.

"Well it looks like they were definitely having a good time." Dean muttered under his breath as a small group of people gathered around the scene. "And they didn't even invite me..." Castiel muttered jokingly in response. Dean laughed. "You know Cas, you're not a total dick after all."

Apparently the girl's name was Rose, based on the growing flock of men rushing to her side in her highly expressed time of need. Though when Dean and Castiel followed the party back inside the cabin, her apparent fiancée who went by the name of Cal was acting quite protective over her in the blonde guy's presence. Also based on the conversation, they had figured out that the blonde guy's name was Jack, and that Rose was a beautiful little fool that leaned over too far to see the propellers.

What an idiot. Not that she want pretty or anything, but Dean just thought that she looked too damn stupid. Granted, an idiot was usually what Dean looked for in a woman, but never this bad.

Castiel yawned slightly. "I suppose I'll be going back to my cabin now. It's late and people in first class have to be at breakfast at a certain time if we want to eat anything." Dean merely laughed. "Almost makes you hate being as rich as you are, right?" Castiel laughed with him. "I guess so. I'm afraid I didn't hear your name." Dean turned and began walking away. "The name's Dean Winchester. Take care Novak." Castiel smirked and turned to walk the opposite direction. "Take care Winchester."

Castiel walked back to his room, and laid down and sighed. He closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long while, pondering over the happenings of the past few hours. It was perfectly normal for him to meet a stranger on a boat, but there was something about Dean that he couldn't get out of his head.

Dean fell asleep easily when he got back to his room, Sam still snoring away like usual. Now he knew the name of the strange man, and had a plan to eat dinner with him the next day. This had been a very odd day on the ship of dreams, but he didn't mind. He was really beginning to enjoy this Novak boy's company.


	3. Revelation

Dean woke up with a start when Sam quickly pulled him off of the top bunk so he would crash face first into the floor. Dean looked up at Sam, with a befuddled expression on his face. He shook his head, before getting up and chasing Sam around the room, at first angrily, but then slowly breaking down into laughter. He caught up to Sam and picked him up off the ground, then pretending to slam him head first into the wall. Sam threw his hands up in front of his face as a defense mechanism, though he knew that Dean wouldn't really do that to him.

Dean laughed and set the thirteen year old boy down on the bed. "You want to go running around again?"

Sam smiled giddily. "Yeah. Yesterday I snuck into the first class area. They gave me a stupid monkey suit, but it's too big. It might fit you though."

Dean smiled back at his little brother. "Actually I might need that. I'm going to dinner with them."

"You're going to dinner with a first class? You mean rich people?" Sam's eyes widened.

Dean sighed and Sam dropped the suit clumsily on the edge of the bed. Then he ran out the door, whooping like a wild animal. Dean called after him, "Don't get yourself killed!" then stood and closed the door. He slowly changed into the suit and stared at his reflection vainly through the small mirror in the corner. He anxiously waited to pass the time, messing the room up, cleaning it, messing it up again, just so he could clean it again.

By the time he left for dinner, he had cleaned his room about five or six times over, undressed and redressed, and put some oil through his hair to slick it back. He left to go to the dining hall, looking around for the mysterious Novak man, but was unfortunately not able to find him. He waited at the bottom of the stairs and saw a boy, the same boy that was believed to have tried to rape that girl earlier. His hair was slicked back just like Dean's, and he was wearing a simple tuxedo just like Dean's. He walked over and muttered to the boy, you have any idea how I'm supposed to act around these people?"

Jack laughed. "Nope. Not a clue. I'm just copying that guy." He pointed at an old man who held his hand behind his back and somehow managed to make himself look sophisticated. Dean's eyes widened and he put his arm behind his back in a similar way.

"This feels stupid." Dean muttered again. The boy smiled. "Yep. It looks stupid too. Jack Dawson." He held out his hand for Dean to shake. Dean did so clumsily. "Dean Winchester. Waiting for someone?" Jack replied slowly. "Yeah, you could say that."

When Rose came down the steps wearing a reddish colored dress, a flit came over Jack's eyes that was so gushy and happy looking that Dean actually smiled at it. "She's a beauty." Jack could only nod in agreement. Dean smiled wider. "Good luck Dawson." Jack couldn't remove his gaze from the beautiful woman who was now at the bottom of the steps. "You too Winchester."

Just as Jack was walking away with Rose, Castiel Novak was walking down the steps and Dean felt as if that same flickering sensation that came across Jack's face had just gone across his. He felt like his heart had somehow skipped a beat when he laid eyes on the blue eyed man. It couldn't have been that though. Castiel slightly bowed his head and looked back up. "Well, I must admit Winchester, you did well. You managed to get your hands on a decent tux, oil for your hair, and then get here at a reasonable time."

Dean smirked. "You thought I would be the one to get here late? I have been here waiting for you Novak." He said Novak in a way that was a poor imitation of the way Castiel had called Dean "Winchester".

Castiel smiled. "Let us eat."

Dean smiled back. "Likely sir."

They walked until they sat down at a table with a soft white table cloth. There were three types of forks on his left, and three spoons and three knives on his right. He wasn't used to eating with more than his own hands, and made it frighteningly noticeable.

Castiel snickered a bit under his breath before leaning in towards the center of the table to whisper, "The salad fork is the one on the far left. Then the shredding fork. Then the one you eat the main course with. You can remember because of the number of prongs."

Dean smiled and his cheeks turned blood red from embarrassment. The waiter set down a salad in front of both of the two men, and Dean had already forgotten his instructions. Castiel smiled.

He picked up Dean's hand and set it down on the fork on the far left. His emotions remained calm and collected, but the feeling of Dean's skin against his even in the slightest gave his stomach a sort of somersaulting feeling inside of him. The same happened with Dean, though he could not help but let his eyes widen slightly. Castiel narrowed his eyes, but began eating. Dean did the same.

Castiel spoke between bites. "So...Dean."

That was the first time the Novak man had called him by his first name.

"Exactly how did you happen upon a ticket onboard the Titanic?" He asked calmly.

Dean smirked a little. "In an extremely 'unsophisticated' way. I won the money in a poker game. I got enough money for me and my brother to get a second class room."

Castiel's eyes widened slightly. "Both of you?! You must have practically robbed them!" He laughed.

Dean laughed with them. "That's how they acted. They chased almost all the way here!"

Both of them laughed very loudly with each other, turning heads from across the dining room, except for Jack's who was most likely used to loud noises. Both Dean and Castiel blushed at the same time and quieted down. Dean muttered quietly in order to continue the conversation. "So what about you? You got rid of the entire family fortune, but kept enough to get here?"

Castiel blinked a few times, clearing his throat. "I...um...kept some left over. I suppose I am not as holy-roller as everyone believes me to be." He chuckled nervously.

Dean nodded in response. "You act as if there is something wrong with that."

Castiel looked down and proceeded to play with his food. "Can I trust you to bite your tongue when asked to tell of another's secrets?"

Dean nodded again. "Tongue bite. Gotcha. I'm all ears."

Castiel closed his eyes as he slightly raised the cuff of his suit, showing a scar of an odd symbol on his wrist. "I'm more holy-roller than you think. Dean, I am...I am an angel of the lord..."


End file.
